


Doctor Coo

by LissyStrata



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: F/M, None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 21:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5065312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LissyStrata/pseuds/LissyStrata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barbara vs. Pigeon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Coo

**Author's Note:**

> PIGEON.
> 
> * * *

 

“Ian, hurry up and get it off! People are staring!” whispered Barbara.  
  
“I'm trying, it's-ouch!” He hastily withdrew his hand from her hair. The pigeon flapped its wings to let him know there was another peck coming if he didn't back off. For the time being, Barbara was stuck with an uninvited passenger. Deliriously happy to be home, they'd gone running through London and during their frolic at Trafalgar Square, a pigeon had settled on Barbara's head, giving them both a good laugh.  
  
They hadn't expected it to come with them on the bus.  
  
“Pull harder.”  
  
“I'm doing all I can!” Indeed he was. She'd forbidden Ian to use too much force on the bird, because if she had to choose, she'd much rather have a live pigeon caught in her hair than a dead one. But after it had figured out it was in no danger, the pigeon grew more emboldened. Cheekily, it hunkered down even further into Barbara's bouffant.  
  
“Ian!”  
  
“Hold on, I'll think of something...”  
  
The pigeon leaned forward to examine Barbara's face. She crossed her eyes to stare at it. It tilted its head and pecked her. “Ow!” By now, the other passengers on the bus were starting to openly whisper among themselves.  
  
Ian waved his hands at her face and yelled “BOO!”  
  
“AAAA!”  
  
Startled, the pigeon flapped furiously but didn't get anywhere.  
  
“OW! OW! OW!”  
  
“Hold still, Barbara! It's feet are caught-” Ian said as she buried her face in his shoulder, laughing hysterically at the absurdity of it all.  
  
After they'd been thrown off the bus, the pigeon finally decided to disentangle itself and had taken up refuge on Barbara's shoulder. It cooed appreciatively as she stroked its feathers.  
  
“One second you want me to get rid of it, the next you've got yourself a little feathered friend!”  
  
“He's not so bad when he's not digging into your scalp.”  
  
“He?”  
  
“Yes. He's determined to come home with us, why not let him?”  
  
Ian shook his head. “But Barbara, it's a pigeon! It's...well...”  
  
“Don't say odd. After all we've been through, a pigeon is not odd.” She gently pushed the pigeon away from where it had been trying to examine her ear. “And I thought it might be nice to have a pet.”  
  
Ian looked like he might argue, but then seemed to dismiss the whole idea. “A pet pigeon. I suppose you could use it to send messages.” She laughed. “Here, may I?” He held out a hand to the pigeon, which instantly gave him another peck. “Ouch!” Not to be thwarted by a bird, he tried again, this time offering his finger as a perch. The pigeon examined it carefully, then with surprising dignity stepped on. “There we are.”  
  
As Ian pulled his hand away from Barbara's shoulder, the bird wobbled a bit, then fell forwards until it was hanging upside-down. Unperturbed, it fluffed up its feathers and puffed out its little chest, looking for all the world like it was trying to pretend that's what it had intended to do all along. Barbara would have sworn it looked put out when they chuckled at it.  
  
“You know, this old fellow's going to need a name,” said Ian. “I vote for 'Doctor'.”  
  
“Doctor?!” laughed Barbara.  
  
“That's right. Doctor Coo.”  
  
“You can't name it that!”  
  
“Oh, you had something else in mind?” he asked.  
  
“Well, not really. Seems oddly appropriate though.” The pigeon sidled along Ian's arm and pecked him on the chest.  
  
“All right, all right!” he said, helping the bird get right-side-up. Dr Coo strutted boldly up his arm to his shoulder, looked him right in the eye, then fluttered up to perch on his head. “I'd say he fits his namesake rather well.”  
  
Giggling, they continued down the street.


End file.
